


Heaven Down the Line

by Raine_Wynd



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-01
Updated: 2001-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 16:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the first dS Lyric Wheel. A Fraser introspection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven Down the Line

**Author's Note:**

> Alliance owns them, and I'm borrowing them for yet another skip-to-my-Lou through Stonyland. No money made, no harm meant. Written for the first dueSouth Lyric Wheel, and in accordance with the rules, has not been beta'd.

She lay beside him in the darkness, one arm draped over his waist, her breasts pressed against his side as he lay staring up at the ceiling. Through the thin walls of the building, he could hear the classical music from Mrs. Winslow's radio start drifting upwards from the fifth floor; it sounded like Tchaikovsky this morning. Without glancing at a watch, Fraser knew that it was four in the morning, and the ever-cheerful former ballet dancer was getting ready to make breakfast for her husband, who made deliveries for UPS. In another hour, Fraser knew, the old apartment building would start to really come alive for the day, and the rumble of random voices would mingle with the sounds of the city as it too began another day. The sounds formed a staccato movement to which he'd grown accustomed, a kind of jangling serenity on which he counted to help him start his day. This morning, however, it did little to calm him. The newness, the unfamiliarity of having a lover with him to share in the rhythm altered his ability to take it in, and he knew he'd not forget easily how it had been changed. The slight disharmony only served to remind him how different this morning was.

Some part of him wanted to shout from the rooftops that she was finally here, that he finally got to say what had been on his mind for years, but even as he acknowledged that part, he knew he had said less than he needed to say. Whatever words he'd meant to speak had gotten drowned in the floodtide of passion that had burst the moment the door had shut.

His lover's arms were possessive and warm as they held him close, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. In his heart, he knew that she'd always been a part of him, somewhere deep beneath his skin in a way that went beyond reason and understanding. No matter where he'd been in all of his wanderings, he'd never forgotten her, never been able to quite heal the wounds of their last hours together. He wanted to shout with joy that she was back in his life... wanted to bless the serendipity that had brought her here to him, but the logical, rational part of him knew it was less serendipity than a set of precise factors combining in a fashion that only seemed coincidental. Unconsciously, Fraser frowned as he realized how cold that sounded. Still, his happiness refused to settle completely, and he wondered if Ray's cynicism was rubbing off on him that he doubted this unexpected gift so, or if it was simply his years of being a student of human nature. Either way, he wanted, selfishly, to make that hollowness go away.

It wasn't supposed to be like this; he'd never dreamed that one day, he'd see her again. No, that wasn't an accurate statement, Fraser silently corrected himself. It was more that he hadn't let himself dream that it could be like this. He'd tried to tell himself that just seeing her again had been enough, but he'd lied, and she'd known that. One glimpse of her, and his heart felt like it had taken once again a fall down a steep flight of stairs, leaving him bruised and bleeding and yet somehow emptier for the experience. That sensation had only intensified the longer he'd spent in her company all those years ago, and feeling it again touched him in ways he couldn't begin to describe. Nothing they'd ever done together had been in half measures, and he'd never taken the risk of seeing her to clear the air between them. He couldn't even justify to himself why he hadn't, only that he'd tried to file the whole experience as a lesson learned and a duty done. Even as he thought that, he knew he'd been afraid to face the passion between them, unable to reconcile the intensity of emotion that had welled up in him when he'd at last, turned her in as he'd been ordered to do.

Fraser wasn't sure exactly why she was here, but instinctively, he knew that it wasn't the reason she'd told him. As much as he wanted to believe that she was only in town to visit a friend, long experience had taught him that nothing was ever as it seemed. The woman he'd known all those years ago had been passionate in her defiance of her arrest, passionate in her refusal to turn in her partners, passionate in her will to live, passionate in her lovemaking... and he'd taken it all in and turned it to his advantage. He'd steeled himself against her tears when he'd turned her in at last, and shoved the guilt and remorse down in the place where he always placed such things when they conflicted with his duty.

Was it wrong to want a taste of what he'd missed? She was free now, her record a thing of the past; she'd served her time and made penance in the eyes of the law. By all rights, she was no longer off-limits to him, and yet... being with her somehow felt like it was at once forbidden and natural. He'd forgotten, no, not let himself remember what it was like to feel like this, to hunger so much for the touch of a lover that nothing else mattered but the sensations rolling through him at that moment, all the things unsaid shoved aside for later discussion. No, Fraser decided, it wasn't wrong to want, but he couldn't stop wondering why it felt so much like a mistake.

Was he becoming cynical? He'd never seen himself as a cynic, but increasingly, he wondered if he wasn't deluding himself. Every place he'd ever been had left its message on his skin, and he could feel this city searing its mantra into him, a message of distrust and scheming and selfishness. The cold winter wind fluttered the few candles still burning, and he inexplicably shivered despite the body heat his lover generated.

For ten years, he'd tried to put her out of his mind... out of his heart. He'd heard Ray say that being in love was heaven while it lasted. He turned the phrase over in his mind, thinking about how he'd always believed that heaven was somewhere down the line for him, sometime after his work was through, after his duty had been done and justice had been served. Falling in love with Victoria, almost dying in a blizzard with her, then being with her in a strange city miles and years away from that time... that hadn't been in his carefully laid out plans.

It was insane to think that this affair would last. Few things in life ever did, but oh, how he wanted this one to be on that short list. Being with her felt like coming home, if only for a little while, and though he'd gotten used to being away, Chicago wasn't quite home and would never be. She brought the cold with her, and in that winter, he found comfort he knew he'd never find anywhere else.

He could feel her breath ghosting against his chest in an even cadence, a soft counterpoint to the symphony of noise beginning to resound through the thin walls of the apartment. Abruptly, he was seized by the need to feel her again, to make sure that if at least for now, he could keep her safe from harm... keep her from leaving a hole in his heart ever again. He rolled slightly to face her, and she unconsciously turned away. He froze, his intention stilled.

Loneliness swelled within him, whispering reminders of how alone in Chicago he really was, with no one who knew the man he'd been before he'd come here. Victoria was a link to his past, and selfishly, he didn't want to share her with anyone, at least not yet. He didn't think Ray would understand the attraction... didn't think his friend wouldn't hesitate to grill Victoria in some kind of attempt to make sure she was suitable. Fraser knew she wasn't a conventional woman, but he didn't care. If he wanted conventional women, there were plenty who'd made it known they were available, but he didn't want them. He wanted only her. For however long she was here this night, she was in his arms, and he wasn't alone anymore.

There were times when the differences between this place and his home were so vast, it felt as though he was trying to peer across a glacier of ice and snow as the sunlight struck it just right, and the glare blinded him to what lay beyond that mass of white. It wasn't easy for a man raised to be self-sufficient to admit that he needed someone... that he loved someone, perhaps not wisely, and that as much as he wanted to reason that love away, he couldn't explain it. Instead, he could only feel it coursing through his veins, pounding his heart, clouding his logic and making him believe that anything was possible.

Maybe saying hello to her on the street had been a mistake. Maybe it was too late for redemption of any sort. Maybe Fraser was a fool for allowing her get to him this way. There were always a thousand permutations and even more possibilities... but the promise of heaven down the line was one this Mountie couldn't resist, and the truth was... he wasn't sure if he even wanted to resist, given the chance, and something told him that would be his downfall. He was a strong man, but even strong men had to find a place to unwind, to be able to lean on someone else and let them lead for a while.

Nights like this, he didn't want to be strong. He only wanted to feel loved, wanted, secure, less of an object standing out in the wind holding up a standard so old the rest of the world mocked it, and more of a man who had needs, feelings, and desires. Nights like this, he could believe that he was worthy of something that touched his soul... something that felt a lot like love. He didn't dare acknowledge the emotion: it was too raw, too unfinished, too deep, and it bled over in places he hadn't expected, making him remember the passion of his youth, the unrivaled innocence, and the sheer incomprehension of ever needing a mask to hide his feelings behind. He hadn't been nave when he'd met Victoria, but oh, how he'd believed she'd accept that he'd done what he'd felt was right at the time. All these years, he'd never been able to resolve those actions into a nice, neat compartment, remembering the look of shock on her face when she realized he still meant to bring her in, and file it away in his head like a hundred other cases. Even now, he couldn't say just how he felt about her; it was all tangled in the events that had happened over those days in the pass. There was nothing romantic about almost dying, and yet.... All he was sure of was that when he was with her, he didn't have to be strong. He only had to feel, and believe, and trust that she would be exactly who he expected her to be.

Maybe it was insane to let down his guard this much, and maybe he'd regret this night for the rest of his life, but he wanted her like no one else he'd ever known, and he couldn't find it in himself to pull away. He knew that in another hour, he needed to get up and get ready for his work, else he would be running late and would be forced to take public transportation or call Ray for a ride. He couldn't make himself; work felt like a million years removed from the haven in which he rested. Suddenly it seemed as though he had so little time left, and the realization made him want, selfishly, to prolong the time he had with her. Compensating for the way she'd rolled, he pushed on her shoulder to bring her back flat on the mattress, then began kissing her. Making love to her again wouldn't silence the doubts and fears completely, but it would banish them for a little while, and Fraser wanted the illusion that all was well for now. It was a cold comfort, but in that moment, it warmed his lonely soul, and offered the promise that heaven wasn't as far as the stars.

**** Finis ****

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Lyrics used: "heaven down the line", "random voices", "every place I have been leaves a message on my skin" (slightly altered to fit perspective), "safe from harm" and are courtesy of Gearbox (thanks for some intriguing ones!) Thanks to Rhi for sending the dS muses home, although I don't think they were expecting this either! :-)
> 
> "Put Out The Lights"  
> by Ian Telfer/Alan Prosser and sung by Oysterband  
> ©Momentum Music 1995
> 
> There might music on the street  
> forty floors beneath my feet  
> static from a dying star  
> comes as far, comes as far
> 
> Random voices on a show  
> wisdom of the radio  
> they promise heaven down the line  
> even mine, even mine
> 
> Put out the lights  
> Put out the lights  
> Put out the lights on London City  
> The night is warm, let me take you in my arms
> 
> Put out the lights  
> Put out the lights  
> Put out the lights on London City  
> Keep the creatures safe from harm
> 
> Every place that I have been  
> leaves its message on my skin  
> so many prophesies and signs  
> so little time, so little time
> 
> Put out the lights  
> Put out the lights  
> Put out the lights on London City  
> The night is warm, let me take you in my arms
> 
> Put out the lights  
> Put out the lights  
> Put out the lights on London City  
> Keep the creatures safe from harm


End file.
